Rhodophobia
by cordo12
Summary: In which a (slightly unhealthy) hatred of pink cats grants the gift of Motivation. Semi-SI OC
1. Chapter 1

You know I really should have seen this coming.

 _A rather big envelope, made of yellowish parchment with elegant writing in emerald-green ink._

I mean really. The random relocation of belongings. Jackets, beds, my cat.

 _A purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms;_

My aunt's hair changing colour to orange when I got mad at her for feeding my goldfish to her pet turtle. Still haven't forgiven for that.

 _A lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H._

But still, why me? See the problem isn't the letter. Certainly not. It's that I knew what this letter was without even opening it.

 _Opening the envelope there was a letter that went on in a different handwriting:_

The problem is that I knew what was in it because I've seen it happen before. I mean, everyone who knew of _that world_ has always daydreamed of getting one.

 _Dear Mr. Ethan Price,_

Now that it's in my hands, I'm not so sure if I really wanted it. For you see my birthdate? March 23rd, **1980**.

 _We are pleased to inform you_

Now that's a problem for several reasons. One, I'm not actually of this time, and considering this letter, probably not this universe either. I'm also not of this country. No, in late 2017, I was in still in high school in America. Not in a small primary school on the edge of Newcastle in 1991.

" _What've you got there, sweetie?" My mother, Evelyn Price, walked up to me and crouched down to my size. Reading the letter, her eyes grew progressively wider and wider._

Being reborn was quite the interesting experience, if I may say so myself. After I (somehow) died, I ended up being reincarnated to this place. After the expected shock and grief wore off, (thank God my parents are who they are, the constant screaming and crying would've been unbearable for anyone else.) I would say I did alright. Adapting was no real issue to me, although making friends when your mental age is three times higher is surprisingly difficult. Who knew.

" _Darling, I think you need to come down here!" Her voice growing louder and more anxious the more she spoke. My father, Robert Price, sensing her tone, hurriedly wobbled down the stairs._

The second reason is that 1991 is _Harry's year_. It means it's the time when Voldemort comes back. The time when discrimination and persecution of people like me is at an all-time high. The time when dark wizards and witches rule Magical Britain.

 _Dad took the the letter from me, and after reading the letter started sweating bullets. "Bloody hell.." Deciding I may as well act the part, I asked my parents what was wrong. He slowly handed the letter back to me._

The third reason? Well, if there is any character in fiction that I hate, it's Dolores- _freakin'_ Umbridge. Yes, that's right. Being in Harry's year means I would actually have to put up with her for an _entire year._ Voldemort and his death eaters are threatening yes, but they can be fought, and will eventually be defeated. Fighting Umbridge is fighting the ministry. As a muggleborn, that is a horrible idea by any standard. To have to shut up and tolerate her vile personality and watch her do horrible things to the students would be more than I could take.

 _that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

It seems I have a new mission plan then. In all the nine realms there is no way that I would ever let it get to that point. Why not try to stop Voldemort you ask? For one, Voldemort's resurrection is a given. Even if I try to go for the Horcruxes I would still only get maybe two. I'd have no idea where to begin searching for the ring. The diary is at the Malfoy manor, and it would be foolish for me to try to break in. It would be even more foolish to break into Gringotts and get the cup. Not to mention trying to get to Nagini and getting Harry to kill himself. That would all have to wait for later.

 _Term begins on September 1st. As you are new to the magical world, a Hogwarts representative will stop by shortly either before or after this letter arrives to further inform you._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

I don't remember that last part being in Harry's letter. Was it just assumed that he would know about magic? Had to be a real shocker for Magical Britain. Harry Potter not even knowing that he's magic. Not knowing why he was made famous.

 _A knock came from the door, reverberating through the dead-silent house. Through the window I could see a tall figure wearing pale yellow robes with moons on them. The man himself? Well this should be interesting._

* * *

Yup, I'm doing it. Considering this is more of a side project, it's not going to be as heavy or as frequently updated as my other story, A Stained Fang. It's mainly me just having fun with the characters and plot. It's obviously going to have more serious moments, but the first few years are going to be almost entirely fluff. Also, major note, I'm not a Brit. Meaning, the tone of the story is going to be a bit awkward sometimes. I'm working on it. That said, I'm also trying to incorporate JK Rowling's writing style and mix it with my own for max authenticity. Along a similar vein, the story will be mostly canon compliant. So no fanon concepts like Heir rings, or Dark and Light and all that. Although I'm keeping Daphne and Tracey. Because I like them. Sue me. Lastly, the character is a semi because while inspired by me, he's not exactly me. He's much better at feelings. At least I hope. An author does shape the characters, and what the author can't imagine is going to be hard to convey. You're gonna have to hope with me on that one. That's it, really. Hope you'll stick around. :)


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir, not to be rude or anything, but aren't house visits and such usually reserved for other members of staff?" I asked.

Currently, we (as in me, my parents, and Dumbledore) are in the courtyard leading to the array of bricks into Diagon Alley. Dumbledore smiled at me.

"As is tradition, muggleborn orientation is a job shared by the Headmaster and the Heads of House. I was so luckily predisposed as to have to drawn you." I suppressed a grimace. Imagine learning about magic and having Snape stand on your doorstep. No thank you.

Speaking of, my house visit was about two days ago. My parents and I were introduced to Dumbledore, or as he'd like to be known, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. He did some magic, which I have to admit was very impressive. It's not everyday you see a pen being transformed into a perfect recreation of _The Starry Night_. Anyway, he showed us some magic, and somehow eased the nerves of my parents and convinced me to be allowed to come to Hogwarts, all in the span of two minutes. Knowing the man was a master manipulator and seeing it with my own eyes was a strange juxtaposition to say the least.

Seeing as we very well couldn't use the floo, since we weren't connected, or Apparate, since side-along apparition with three extras is a foolish idea, we went on the Knight Bus. It was about as fun as the books described. Meaning not at all. But we made good time. Stan made us priority the moment he saw Dumbledore.

"Thank you sir." He chuckled.

"You are very welcome, Ethan. I must say you are a very well mannered boy." I smirked.

"Oh, you'll change your mind soon enough, Headmaster. And for the record, you're very open-minded for a hundred something year old."

He didn't bother suppressing his mirth this time and let out a hearty laugh. As he did so, he took out his wand and tapped the third brick from the left above the trash bin. So that's the Elder Wand huh? I didn't get a very good look at it before when he transfigured the pen, but this time it was on full display. It looked very unassuming, though I suppose a wand, which is basically a piece of wood around a foot long, is hard-pressed to be intimidating.

"Well, young Ethan, when you've seen as many things as I have, you'll know that with a little bit of magic, anything is possible." He gave me a considering look, Dumbledore suspects something, clearly. But he doesn't know what. Let's just hope he's keeping it at 'potential trouble maker' rather than 'potential Dark Lord' or 'potential time-traveler.' It wouldn't do to catch the Headmaster's attention this early in the game. Which probably means I have to start thinking up a plan for said game, shouldn't I?

"In any case, I welcome you, to Diagon Alley."

My parents, who had stayed quiet up until now, let out loud gasps when the bricks finally cleared from the archway. It was magnificent. I'm sure some more of the extreme Potterheads would be jizzing their pants right about now. We walked on, and I whipped my head back and forth to catch every single part of the streets. The shops were multicoloured and were selling just about anything you could imagine. And when I mean anything, I mean anything. Like Troll tongue. Yuck.

"Your list, Ethan." He inclined his head. I took it out, and gave him a slightly suspicious look. "You don't strike as a forgetful man, sir." He walked onwards, most likely in the direction of Gringotts. "No, but it never hurts to be prepared, Ethan." It was hard not to notice the people moving out of the way for Dumbledore.

Arriving at Gringotts we walked inside into a large building covered with goblins. They look a lot less pleasant in real life than in the movies. Goblins everywhere being busy with something or other, whether it was weighing gemstones or writing accounts on parchment. Every now and then, a goblin would walk across the hall and into one of the many corridors branching away and down. Scowls permanently etched on all their faces, they treated everything but gold or other precious items they held with contempt. Even each other. Lovely atmosphere they've got going here.

Dumbledore moved briskly to a counter of one of the least busy-looking goblins. Speaking rapidly in Gobbledegook, the goblin in question looked surprised, but when he saw who he was speaking to quickly calmed down and replied. His Gobbledegook was a lot rougher than Dumbledore's, probably having to do with some strange Goblin anatomy. After a few rounds of back and forth, Dumbledore turned to us and spoke in regular English, explaining wizarding currency and conversion values. Dad seemed to perk up at this, accountant that he is, he must be very interested in how money would work in a completely separate society. After some counting and considerations, Dad put some notes down and, after some heavy scrutinizing from the goblin, got a sack of Galleons and Sickles in return. Dad took them and we went back outside.

The next two hours or so was absolute bliss, going into all kinds of shops and picking out what we needed was a ride in and of itself. There are lot of people that would kill for the opportunity to do what I am right now and I was milking it for every piece I could. I had a field day going through Flourish and Blotts and took every single non-assigned book I thought would be useful and/or would be hard-pressed to check out of the library. _Hogwarts, A History_ , _Advanced Potion Making_ , _Intermediate Transfiguration, Standard book of Spells 1-7, Protection Charm Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimensy, The Rise of and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and so on. Unfortunately a magical trunk was a little too expensive so I couldn't get one of those, sadly. Would have liked the space. As we came out of Madam Malkins with a brand new set of robes, I overheard a boy talking about Hogwarts.

"Moooom don't even joke about that! Why would I _want_ to be put in Slytherin?"

Seeing this as a perfect chance, I asked the Headmaster, "Sir, what's Slytherin?" His face lighted up. "Ah. Oh yes. It is one of the four Hogwarts houses, one that prides itself on their cunning and ambition. At Hogwarts you are sorted into one of these four houses you see, and they will go on to be something like family. You will eat, sleep and go to classes with your housemates. It is one of the many allures of our school."

Personally, I've never seen sorting as more of an opportunity to play the us vs. them game humans are so fond of early on. But he seems to genuinely think it's a wonderful thing. Not really a mindset I could share, but I can play along.

"Really? Then why doesn't he want to be sorted into Slytherin?" He frowned. "Well, in more recent years, the name of Slytherin often receives the short end of the stick, as cunning and ambition are traits also shared by most Dark Lords. So with that association in mind.."

Catching on, I finished his sentence for him. "They think the entire house is bad. A few rotten apples spoil the bunch." And when thrown in the trash for it, all of them rot. "Yes, that is very true. But naturally, Slytherin house also has had it share of great wizards and witches. Did you know that Merlin himself was a Slytherin?" Yes I did know that, but I'm of course not going to tell him that.

"Merlin's real?" He laughed again. "Yes, Ethan, very real. You'll often find that things of myth and legend are very much real in the Wizarding World."

I perked up. "Like chimaeras? And dragons?" He gave me another look with his twinkling eyes, this one knowing. "Of course. And many more. Ah. We have arrived at our last destination, Ollivanders."

Coming in, the entrance was narrow and the shop itself looked very old. Everywhere there were shelves lining up to the ceiling, presumably with wands in them forming their own kind of corridors.

"Good afternoon." Suddenly, Ollivander was standing right in front of me, ominous pale eyes focused on mine. He looked from me to Dumbledore.

What is it with eyes in the Wizarding World? Ollivander, Dumbledore, Harry, Voldemort. What is this, Naruto?!

"Another muggleborn. Yes, of course. Your name?" He was still very much in my personal space. My parents, equally put off, did not come to my rescue. Dumbledore just looked amused.

"Umm. My name's Ethan Price." He backed off, and slid a long tape measure out of his pocket. "Well now, which is your wand arm, Mr. Price?" How does he think I would know that? Confused, I just held up my right arm. He unravelled his tape measure and measured everything short of penis size. It wouldn't surprise me if he snuck that in too and I was just too slow to notice.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Price. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." During his monologue, he left his tape measure to do the measuring on its own and messed around with a few of his shelves.

"That will do." He said, and the tape measure dropped down to the ground, lifeless. "Here. Try this. Apple wood and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches. Just take it and give it a wave." I tried, feeling rather strange. He took it out of my hand not even the next second, stashing it in a spot named failed ones with a counter at the bottom. As the wand entered it, it went up to one from zero. He grabbed another wand and gave it to me. "Elder, dragon heartstring. Rigid. Twelve and a quarter inches." "No. Here, dogwood and phoenix feather, seven inches. Very flexible. No, no." "Poplar. Phoenix feather. Nice and wippy. Go on."

It went on and on and the pile started getting bigger and bigger. Some of them gave some pull, but not one of them seemed to satisfy him. Eventually some lady walked into the shop and after twenty more minutes started giving me the stink eye. After almost an hour later, when the stack reached three hundred and forty two, I sighed. I started getting worried, what if I'm not actually magical? What if I'm just a squib who can do accidental magic? What if..? Ollivander walked over to me and looked me deep in the eyes, a certain intensity with them. He murmured, "That.. it could be..." Taking out his ladder for the seemingly hundredth time, he went up onto one of the ones in the ceiling and grabbed out a whole box.

"These here are wands that have traits that seemingly contradict each other, but, in the right wizard's hands, can turn to greatness. Here, try this one, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Oh shit. I'd recognise that description anyday. Apprehensively, I took it. Nothing. Oh thank God. "No matter, no matter." He took out another one, pitch black. "Ebony and dragon heartstring. Eleven and a half inches. Flexible." Before I even took it, I could feel the connection. Taking the wand that connection spread to my fingers and my arm, reaction so strong I turned it away from Ollivander so I wouldn't accidentally hurt him. Yellow and green sparks flew everywhere."Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh very _very_ interesting. Might I even say it's _highly_ curious. Don't worry . Wand sparks cannot hurt. Oh but that is still so very curious."

Wary, I asked him, "And why is that?" He fixed me with a pale stare. "Wand creation is no easy task, . And ebony wood is by nature very rigid. Thus it is very hard to craft a more flexible one. Likewise, its owner must be naturally set in their ways, yet flexible at the same time. This is a harder balance for a person to strike than people think. Ebony combined with dragon heartstring is also an unusually combative wand. Naturally some would wonder why you would need such a powerful wand. I, however, would deem it beyond obvious you are destined for great things."

Wonderful. Just great. We paid for the wand and quickly got out. The lady who'd been waiting clashed with my shoulder in a very unnecessary display of force when I tried to walk by.

"Well that was certainly eventful." Dumbledore spoke up after an hour and a half of silence. I snorted, quite done for the day. "Define eventful." Not long after, we took the Knight Bus back home and stopped at our doorstep.

"Well, it's been a very productive day today," He flashed a smile. "And I hope that in Hogwarts there are many more to come." He paused and reached for something in his robes. "This is the ticket for the Hogwarts Express at King's cross. Now, it says nine and three quarters on the ticket. That is not a mistake. You'll have to pass through the walls to get there."

I took it and bowed. "Thank you sir. For everything." He smiled and raised his wand.

"You are very welcome. And Ethan, the Trace is not put on until _after_ you enter Hogwarts."

My grin as he disapparated was inappropriately big.

* * *

So a trend I've noticed in HP fanfiction is that everyone seems to have some massive hate boner for Dumbledore. Painting him as the root of all evil and behind every single conflict in the Wizarding World imaginable. This is not true. Yes, he's made mistakes, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still a complicated and multidimensional character. Very often, portrayals of Dumbledore are done so one-dimensionally it hurts my brain. So. In this fic I am going to attempt to change that. And Luna as well, since a majority of the time she's also handled pretty terribly. Not as badly as Dumbledore, but the point remains.

Also, if anyone has a better cover image for me to use for this story that'd be VERY much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Taking a break from reading Adalbert Waffling's _Magical Theory,_ I stared at my wand. Up close it's a magnificent thing, really. Expertly crafted, not a single piece out of place. Holding it feels natural, almost like a sixth finger. If feeling a sixth finger were natural.

It's been a few days now since we came back from Diagon Alley and the entire time we've been back I've locked myself in the room and read. Eager to find out more about magic. Unsurprisingly, there is a lot more to it than the books showed. Those laws about magical theory? Like Gamp's Law? There are hundreds of those. Significant and seemingly insignificant but significant because of how they interact with other more significant ones and. Yeah. It's a lot more than just pointing your wand and shouting an incantation.

Another point that I've noticed the books never really expanded on is that most books in magical society are structurally very poorly written. Most who don't have a very strict structure to follow like a potions textbook like _Magical Drafts and Potions,_ or a list of spells like _The Standard Book of Spells_ read more like a very large anecdote with little helpful tips here and there. I can't really blame them. Not having sat through an actual writing class since primary school would probably hurt your writing no matter how many essays you write. If you don't know what to improve, you simply won't. (A/N: very non-subtle nudge for reviews.)

After reading and rereading _Magical Theory_ and the section on the Wand-Lighting Charm, I thought it high time to actually try it out. Concentrating, I focused my magic up to my wand while simultaneously thinking of the spell itself. The intent behind magic is very important. You have to mean it. You have to want it. Hesitation and doubt will make the spell fail, especially the harder ones can fail dramatically if you're not absolutely sure of what you're doing. Even then, it goes much, much deeper. I focused my intent. Wanting, needing light to illuminate my surroundings, needing the reassurance and safety light brings.

"Lumos."

An orange light eventually paling to a light yellow came out of the tip of my wand and shone light into my room. Mission success. Now the counter-charm. I focused again, this time on comfort and solace in the dark.

"Nox."

It promptly went out. Not quite believing it, I tried again.

"Lumos." It turned on again, this time going straight to pale yellow.

"Nox." Off again.

"Lumos." On again.

"Nox."

"Lumos."

"Nox."

Silence.

"...YES! DID YOU SEE THAT?! THAT'S RIGHT! THAT'S MAGIC RIGHT THERE!" Shouting at the top of my lungs I did a little (well not really little) victory dance around my bedroom. There may have been thrusting involved.

After calming down I reassessed my wand. Yes that was amazing, but I really only accomplished making a stick of wood into a lantern with an on and off switch. Good job, Ethan. Still, just those few bits of magic showed me a lot more about how it actually works. First is that a spell gets easier and easier to do the more times you've done it successfully. It's almost like it's helping you along in forming the spell at one point. Second, this spell and probably others can overcharge, which was probably the orange before the yellow. The orange light didn't really make it any brighter so that means power isn't everything when it comes to magic.

I grinned, and went to another chapter. This one for the Levitation Charm. Taking out a singular piece of parchment I laid it down on the desk in front of me and pointed my wand at it. Concentrating once again, this time I focused on the feeling of aviation, of the freedom of letting off the ground.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Nothing.

"...Wingardium Leviosa!"

Still nothing. Alright then. No worries. Obviously _telekinesis_ was going to be harder than making a lamp. Just try again.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Oh! It moved. That felt a lot more.. fickle, for lack of a better word. Alright, let's try to expand that feeling.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" This time, the parchment soared up off the desk and held. Then about a second later, it dropped back down again.

Mmmm. It seems this spell requires a lot more control and skill than any others so far. Right then, let's get to work.

* * *

"Ethan, would you lay the table for me, please?" She called out out from the kitchen.

"Yes, mum." Walking over to the cupboard I saw it as a good opportunity and took out my wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Carefully, carefully! I levitated the plates out of the cupboard and placed them down on the table, separating them from the stack and simultaneously putting each of them to a seat. Walking back I repeated the process for the utensils.

These last few weeks I've been busy studying as much as I can preparing for Hogwarts. So far I've learned four charms, and one jinx. Wand-Lighting, Levitation, Softening, and Fire-Making Charms, as well as the Knockback Jinx. Right now I'm trying to expand control by levitating different objects to different places at the same time.

"Sweetie, are you sure that's safe?" Mum said, looking at me worriedly through blond bangs that covered her face. I sat down at the table next to Dad who was reading the newspaper.

"If you do it right."

They traded nervous looks. The rest of the dinner was done in silence, as per usual. Ever since they've learnt about magic they've been very apprehensive about it all. Since I literally perform any magic I can at any point at all, it must unsettle them.

"You know, I'll have the Trace on me by the time I come back, so I won't be able to do magic in the house until seventeen." Catching on, Dad moved his newspaper and shifted his seat directly to me. His pudgy belly got stuck to the edge of the table and he had to maneuver around it. I've had sufficient practice not laughing at the scene since it happens often. I don't know what Mum thought getting a table that hung _exactly_ at abdomen length.

"That's not it. We're just.. Not sure you'll be safe at this.. Gogwarts place."

I couldn't hold it this time, I snorted. "It's Hogwarts, dad. And I've held my own just fine before. Remember Zack from 3rd grade?" 'Accidental' magic indeed. Had some great fun with that. He seemed placated, if only barely and I knew the subject would come up again later.

My parents are very timid people, preferring to avoid confrontation entirely. Even with me. I worry that if they hadn't had me they would've been pushed around a lot by their child. As it stands, I just have a tad more freedom than most kids my age did. To be honest, I'm more worried for them than me. When Voldemort's war comes, I'll have to send them into hiding and even before that they're not going to be exactly safe.

"Alright. Just.. be careful." Retreating back to face his plate.

"Always am, dad."

* * *

After a bit of a teary and reluctant goodbye, I hauled my stuff onto an empty compartment and settled there. Taking advantage of the the emptiness part, I immediately changed into my robes. Being done with that, I took a book out of my trunk and sat down to reread _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander. It's fascinating, really. It's very similar to the book J.K. Rowling put out for charity, although somewhat more in-depth. Ever since watching the movie, I've had a bit of an obsession with them. Maybe I could steer Hagrid to show me some of the more interesting ones once I join his class.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment opened and two girls walked in. The first one, a cheery looking girl with blond hair tied in a ponytail, waved at me and introduced herself.

"Hey! I'm Tracey! Tracey Davis. Do you mind if we sit here? Hey Daphne! Introduce yourself."

The other girl had straight raven-black hair reaching just before her shoulders. She looked up from a book of her own. Piercing blue eyes scrutinized me heavily.

"Daphne. Daphne Greengrass. Pleasure to meet you."

Since they weren't wearing any house-gear, I assumed they were first years. Though I don't really remember them being in the books. Figure that's going to happen a lot.

"Pleasure. Ethan Price."

Deliberately cutting them off short and going back to my books, I gauged their reactions from the corner of my eye. Daphne didn't seem to care and just plopped her and her trunk down to the side, immersed in her own book. Tracey seemed undeterred in a different way and kept the non-existent conversation going.

"I don't think I've heard of a wizarding family named Price before, are you muggleborn?"

Nothing.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course, but I'm just interested you know? At Hogwarts there's going to be so many different people to meet and talk to. My family doesn't let me out much and even then they only take me to see the Nibbler's children. Stuck up brats, the lot of them, if you ask me. Seem to regard me as inferior somehow, what with me being a halfblood and all. Say, what Hogwarts House d'you think you'd be sorted in?"

If I didn't know better I'd have thought she was Hermione, the way she rattles on like that.

"You talk a lot."

Once again, undeterred.

"Mhmm. Slytherin or Ravenclaw then. Personally I'm hoping for Hufflepuff. The others think that's a weird ambition. But who doesn't want to be known as hardworking and loyal? Rather that than evil, or reckless."

Daphne spoke up. "There's no way you would be sorted into Hufflepuff Tracey. You're far too impatient."

"Am not! Tell her, Ethan. I'm patient." I've known her for all of two minutes. How am I supposed to defend her here?

"Sure." I faced Daphne. "Tracey's very patient."

Tracey stuck up her nose at Daphne. "See?" Daphne ignored her.

I couldn't help it. I laughed, closing my book I turned to face Tracey. She grinned ferally, as if she won some kind of battle. We chatted some more. Well, when I say that I mean me and Tracey chatted, with Daphne interjecting here and there. Seems she's not reading her book quite as closely as she likes us to believe.

Eventually, the compartment door opened again, this time to a large mass of brown hair. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." Ah, there she is. Wow, those _are_ rather large front teeth.

Daphne answered for us. "No. Is there anything _else?_ " She used the same scrutinizing glare on Hermione as she did on me. Though she seemed a lot more frosty to her, apparently not liking what she's seeing. Hermione, visibly intimidated, backed off rather quickly and shut the compartment door closed again.

"Daphne says she's got an 'eye for character.' Supposedly it helps her discern people worth talking to." She explains. "I call it trust issues." We laughed, ignoring the look Daphne gave us.

After that, the train ride went by amicably. They put on their robes and I had to excuse myself for a while. Honestly don't know why they don't just have changing rooms on the train. Eventually, the train reached to a stop and we walked out.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" I heard Hagrid calling out. I tilted my head to look for any sign of the boy and came up empty. Everyone looks too similar with their hats on. We followed Hagrid down the path leading to the boats. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

They really underestimated the size of the castle in both the books and films. When they say it's huge, they mean it's massively gigantic. It almost seemed to touch the clouds it was so big. We all collectively let out a sound "Oooooooh!"

"No more'n fout to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. We sat down in one of the boats of to the left, another wiry looking boy sitting with us. He didn't seem much for conversation, still enthralled by the castle. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. Which is hilarious. "Right then — FORWARD!" Traversing the lake, everyone was silent, awed at the great castle overhead. I was one of them.

I always wondered what the purpose of this was. Does intimidation help with the Sorting process? Or is it just to show off? Not that I'm complaining. The view is amazing.

After some delay with Neville's toad, Professor McGonagall, who did look very fierce, lead us to the entrance hall. Professor McGonagall started speaking.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses." She went on and on like that, explaining the houses and the point system and such. After she left, murmuring immediately broke out. All on one topic, the sorting. You could practically taste the nervous aura in the place. The ghosts did nothing to relieve the pressure. When Professor McGonagall returned she ordered us into a single-file line and lead us through to the Great Hall. Once again, the great hall was _much bigger_ than either books or films really managed to convey. She put the hat up, and it started singing. I tuned most of it out really, I've heard it all already. Instead, I took the time to pick out everyone's faces and see how much they differed from the movies. Most notably, Ron looked a lot different. His nose in particular.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Wasting no time, she said, "Abbott, Hannah!" After a few seconds, it decided on "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the the table on the right cheered as she sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Both Tracey and Daphne got sorted into Slytherin, much to the chagrin of Tracey. Daphne didn't really seem surprised. On and on it went, until a "Granger, Hermione!" and the sorting hat had its first real pause. Nonetheless, the hat still shouted out "GRYFFINDOR!" and the pack of first years got thinner and thinner. Neville ended up walking off with the hat after the second long pause of the day, which was hilarious and cut a bit of the nervous tension. Oh look, there's Malfoy. Wow, if he could get any paler you wouldn't be able to see him if you put him on a white background.

Once "Potter, Harry!" stepped forward, whispers broke out like a fire over the hall. It took a little time, although not nearly as long as Neville for it to decide on "GRYFFINDOR!" and the Gryffindor table promptly burst into the loudest cheer yet. "Price, Ethan!" Oh God, here we go.

Briskly walking up to the hat I put it on and sat on the stool. "Hmmmm. Very interesting. It's been a while since I've had a reincarnation before me." Entirely unsurprised at the unfolding of my secret, I addressed the hat in my mind. _You mean you've had people like me sorted here before?_ "Oh yes. Although I've never had dimension travellers before. That's new." _Really. Say, you're supposed to be incredibly wise, correct?_ The sorting hat chuckled, amused. "That has been said of me, yes." _Then what should I do to get rid of Umbridge?_ "Well, assuming all the information in your head is correct, the first step is to diminish the influence of the Ministry so they have little Ethos to be governing the grounds of Hogwarts. Although I should say that maybe you should build up the castle's reputation instead. Damage done by the incidents involving the Chamber of Secrets and the Triwizard Tournament haven't done wonders for it. The second is to find an alternative DADA teacher so the ministry can't fill spots." _Thanks. You've saved me a lot of thinking just now._ "You're very welcome. Of course you could always get rid of Voldemort." _You already know the answer to that._ It chuckled again. "Alright, your sorting?" _Let's get it over with._

I've been hearing whispers for a while now. Very aware that I've had this hat on my head for a long time now. "Well to say it's all there would be an understatement. You seem to have many qualities in line with all four houses. Although you've also got qualities that would disqualify you for any of them. Which makes your sorting rather difficult." _Meaning?_ "Well, you certainly have bravery, but not an ounce of chivalry." _Ouch._ "There's definitely cunning there, but no ambition to speak of. Likewise there is a lot of loyalty and potential for kindness. But no hardworking spirit unless prompted." _You're doing miracles for my self confidence._ "Yes, there is a very notable mind in here, and a hunger for knowledge, but you wouldn't know creativity if it hit you with a Beaters bat." _Too far, Hat. Too far._ "Well, what would you like to be sorted as?" Hmmmm. Slytherin as a muggleborn would be a horrible idea, not accounting already having sort-of friends there. Hufflepuff I'd have to deal with being the target of a lot of that Slytherin hate as well as the other houses. Gryffindor would put me right into the middle of the action, though at this point that wouldn't go over very well. Ravenclaw sounds nice. There's no real House rivalry with them and everyone more or less respects them. They're also remarkably unremarkable. Everyone expects a Ravenclaw to know things so I could get away with a lot too. Yup, made my decision.

"So be it then. I enjoyed our conversation. I duly wish you luck on your adventure, Mr. Price." _I imagine you don't get much riveting conversation very often, talking to scared out of their wits eleven year olds._ He laughed. "No I do not. Well then, better be, RAVENCLAW!" I took the hat off after a last goodbye and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. Noting the subdued clapping and quizzical looks I was given. How long did I have that hat on exactly?

I took a seat next to a confused looking first year, wary of how the the entire house seemed almost fixated on me, whispering to each other about this or that. So much for keeping a low profile. They didn't take their eyes off me until a Lisa Turpin got sorted into Ravenclaw and they clapped for her.

Not long after the sorting was over, and Dumbledore gave his redundant short speech, we got to the food. The boy next to me spoke. "Is he.. alright?" Is he talking to me?

"It's Dumbledore." I shrugged.

He turned to face me, half a potato stuck between his teeth. Very elegant. "What's your name?"

I stared at him, wondering if I should bother. "Ethan Price. You?"

He swallowed, almost choking. "Michael Corner." Another familiar name. Still have no idea who he's supposed to be. It's hard keeping up with a series that doesn't exist yet. Or will at all.

He didn't have much else to say after that, and aside from a few looks sent my way, I was very much left alone. Heck, the older girl next to me seemed to almost avoid me. They're doing amazing work for their antisocial reputation here.

Bored with them, I looked towards the staff table. Snape was just as menacing looking as described. Film version got nothing on him. He's more.. Severe looking. Pun very much intended. Quirrell next to him was trembling exaggeratedly from head to toe, trying not to attract the attention of Snape. Voldemort's right there, Eh? Must have a job and a half keeping that secret. Though there is absolutely no way Dumbledore doesn't know or at least found out during the entire year. Then again, he didn't figure out Moody, so he mustn't be paying all that much attention to the DADA post. Considering he's gone through dozens of teachers already maybe he's tired of monitoring them and takes pretty much anyone who wants the job.

Of course I could follow the theory that the third floor is a trap. Which makes some sense, if _first years_ can break through, who's to say Voldemort can't? So the philosopher's stone being bait? For what? To check if Voldemort is still alive? He could have done that years ago. Why do it exactly on the year Harry comes ba… Oh. Harry's _also_ the bait. Alright then. Smart move, Dumbledore. Introduce the darkest wizard to ever live to a school full of children. Great idea. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Nope. Nothing.

After the ominous speech and the song, which I did _not_ sing along to don't even bother asking, a conscientious seeming prefect called Robert Hilliard led us to the Ravenclaw Common Room. The inside of the castle seemed to be even bigger, as we were led through narrow corridors, up numerous stairs and even hidden doorways. At last we arrived at an unassuming door. No handle or keyhole, but only a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Robert reached out and knocked once. The beak of the eagle opened and a soft, dulcet voice came out.

"I am weightless but can be seen. Put me in a bucket and I'll make it lighter. What am I?"

Robert explained. "The Ravenclaw common room is not opened by password, but by riddle. In order to gain passage, you must answer the riddle correctly." He turned to face the eagle. "The answer is a hole."

"Well reasoned," said the voice, and the door swung open.

The Ravenclaw common room is a wide, circular one. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue-and-bronze silks, giving it a slightly regal accent. Through the windows, you could see a faint outline of the surrounding mountains. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, and bookcases sporadically situated all over the airy room, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble.

Robert walked in front of the small crowd of first years. "That statue over there is of Rowena Ravenclaw, founder of Ravenclaw House. The diadem on top of it is supposed to represent her diadem, which was said to be able to enhance the wisdom of the wearer. This one is a fake, since the real one has been lost for years. Off to the side of the statue there is a door that will lead to the dormitories. Boys on the left, and girls to the right. Boys, fair warning, do _not_ try to sneak into the girls' dormitory, it's enchanted. You have been warned."

Walking into the boys' dormitory I saw the nearest bed and unceremoniously dropped in it, not caring for the other boys that entered. Pulling the dark blue curtains to cover me, I took out my wand and _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch.

Goal now set in place, it was time to worry about the things to do before taking heavy action. Since the first and second years' course load is a lot softer than upper years, I'm going to take it as a grace period to learn as much magic as possible. Merlin knows I'll need it.

* * *

I think I've outdone myself with this chapter. Longest chapter I've written so far. I hope future chapters are around this word count. No promises, though.


	4. Chapter 4

Had this ready for a while now. Just been too unfocused to fix it up properly. Well, here it is then.

* * *

I'll say it. I'm not afraid. The next two weeks or so at Hogwarts was chaos incarnate. Just let me explain.

For starters, the castle is a maze full of hidden doorways and dead ends. Sometimes both. Not only that, but a total of _one hundred and forty two-staircases_. They all lead somewhere different, and sometimes then even diverge from their path to go somewhere else. I've always wondered why they don't just make a map of the place and give it to the first years so they can get to class on time. Turns out that's impossible because the castle literally realigns itself every so often. The Marauders Map must've been written by the gods or something. There's no other way it could have possibly functioned.

Second, the class schedules make absolutely no sense. They're seemingly randomly assigned. For example, I've gotten four Potions classes so far and no Herbology or Astronomy to speak of.

Speaking of Potions, the _teachers._ Snape is an absolute git who has no problem verbally tearing down anyone who makes the slightest mistake. He once went on a ten minute rant to a first year Hufflepuff because she accidentally put mooncalf hair in her Jittering Potion. Granted it was stupid, but that didn't mean she deserved to end up running away from the class in tears.

Snape isn't the only teacher who's difficult to handle. You'd be lucky to understand even a third of what Quirrell is trying to say, and even then it isn't very useful information. Binns is even worse, as I swear I've heard more words come out of an orchestra tuning then I've heard from his droning. His class is so horribly boring you have kids bring pillows to the class.

Last but certainly not least. Ravenclaw itself. I've always had trouble with solving riddles, but now that I've got to do so every time I feel like taking a nap is so bothersome I've seriously considered finding the Room of Requirement so I could sleep there. It wasn't helped that a riddle I was struggling with for half an hour was easily solved by some random first year girl in about a second. I truly considered hexing her smug smile off, not that I knew any. But I could try nonetheless. Likewise, the people inside Ravenclaw House are far from a pleasant lot. Maybe it's just personalities clashing but there are few friends here. They collectively hold academic prowess as the single most quality that matters. The first years, struggling to fit in, are forced to align to that philosophy and thus only make friends with people that match their grades. Which is really sad. I've been keeping a healthy distance from that for obvious reasons.

Not everything was as bad, to my great relief. Professor Flitwick is an absolute delight and most of the other classes are interesting enough. Due to my reading ahead, I've been able to answer most questions the teachers ask me, which started a fun little rivalry between Hermione and me. So far there have been few words exchanged, but there are plenty of glares and smug smiles to go around. It gets a little heated sometimes. In Transfiguration for instance…

* * *

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall started. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. After the most heavy round of notetaking we've done yet, we were allowed to try turning matchsticks into needles. After Professor McGonagall proudly showed the class Hermione's half-done needle I raised my hand.

"Professor, can you take a look at mine? I want to know if I've done this right." She walked up to my desk and raised her eyebrows in surprise. The reason? A fully transfigured needle was right in front of her. All silvery and no wood to speak of. Turns out I have a bit of a talent for Transfiguration. She raised her wand and cast a spell on it, her eyes flashing a pale golden for a millisecond, before she nodded and took the needle into her hands. She then went on to explain the difference between Hermione's half done product and my finished one, and how to get there. Much to Hermione's great delight, of course. I could have raised my hand before her, but knowing this would happen, I couldn't resist. I was rewarded with a stink eye for the rest of the period.

With Hermione being Hermione, she obviously wouldn't let that stand. So, predictably, she cornered me after class.

"That was really very rude of you." I could tell she was trying very hard to reign in her temper.

I raised one eyebrow, my face threatening to break with a smirk creeping up. "Oh. What is? Doing well in class?" She couldn't exactly say showing someone up is rude. It would hurt her pride.

Hermione crossed her arms. "O-Of course not. But that doesn't account for your actions. You do realize that other people are trying to learn as well?"

Unfazed, I responded, "Really? Didn't seem to care for it when she showed yours off did you?"

"But—but that's different!"

"How so? Please enlighten me." I was definitely smirking now.

"Well—I—First of all—"

And, typically, Professor McGonagall came out of her classroom right that second. "Is there a problem?"

"No, Professor. She was just asking for some help with Transfiguration. Seemed terribly eager for it too."

I cut her off before she could speak. "Well, it's been lovely, but I've got to head to my DADA class now. Don't want to be late, you see. Do take care, Hermione."

I sent a wink to her as I left, which made her turn red with exasperation, spluttering all the while. Oh I am going to have a lot of fun with her.

* * *

Good times. Another good thing to Hogwarts life was the few friends I did managed to make. Like Daphne and Tracey, and a Hufflepuff boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley whose name I _did_ recognize. A member of the DA. Pretty sure.

"Aren't you that one kid who broke the Sorting record?" Justin asked. It was the next week on Friday and we were waiting for Madam Hooch to start flying lessons. To be honest, flying never really seemed that appealing to me from the books. Not that I wouldn't like the ability to fly, but to know that what stands between me and a fall to certain death is a thin stick with bristles at the end is not what I call a comforting thought. Seeing Harry getting injured over and over in Quidditch matches didn't help.

"Sorting record?"

"You don't know? Apparently you were the longest Hatstall in history. Six minutes and twelve seconds." He exclaimed.

"Well that would explain the stares." Turns out not only Ravenclaw found me an enigma, but the entire school does too. It's nice to have an answer for why now. I wonder why no one bothered to explain that to me. I mean, they never bothered to tell Harry what they were gossiping about to him either, so maybe it's just a wizarding thing.

"So what happened, if you don't mind me asking?" He seemed very curious about it all, and around us I could see others not so subtly listening in, by the sounds of conversation suddenly dropping.

I rolled my eyes and answered him. "I just asked him for some advice. He seemed happy to talk. That's it really." The others picked up conversation again, most of them disinterred now.

"What did you talk about?" He asked, even more curious for some reason.

"That's private." I said, as Madam Hooch finally arrived.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." I made for one of the least deformed-looking broomsticks, with Justin following and picking one to the left of me. "Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

My broom lazily sauntered over, eventually reaching my hand and falling limp. Welp. Justin got a more positive reaction, his broomstick going right to his hand with no fuss. Others didn't have as much luck, some not moving at all. Even more were strewn about the place as if a whirlwind came through.

She continued the lesson as if nothing happened, helping the people who had actually gotten the broom to work. Then she went over to the rest once they picked their respective brooms off the ground. Once we were actually all off the ground and freely flying, we continued talking.

"So how are you liking Hogwarts?" I asked.

"Oh it's been amazing! There are so many things to learn and see! The professors here are really great too. My name was down for Eton you know. Kind of glad I came here instead. Mum disagrees though, she's not entirely convinced for why you'd _want_ to be a wizard. Can you imagine that? Not wanting to be a wizard?" Talkative indeed. I snorted.

"Exactly. I'll show her. How useful a wizard can be, I mean. Say, you're in my Potions class too, right? Maybe you could be my partner."

"I'd like that." If I had to share another cauldron with Terry Boot I am going to scream. He's so awful at Potions I end up doing most of the work, and then fix _his_ '"work" along with it. He can't even turn the fire on right! It's disgraceful.

We talked some more after that. I found him to be an agreeable kid, if a tad overbearing. But he's eleven. He'll grow out of it. At least I hope.

"Say, do you like snakes?" I asked.

"Not really. Too slimy for my tastes, why?"

"No reason."

* * *

The next day I found myself wandering around the castle practicing transfiguring wooden spoons to silver knives. I asked some fifth year to conjure the spoons and kept them in a box I had on me. Walking slowly I made my way through the castle, enjoying the way the evening sunlight interacted with the aesthetics of the place when I heard a familiar bored drawl accompanied by thumping noises.

"Don't know why your grandmother still puts up with you, Longbottom. If I were her, I would have gotten rid of a squib like you long ago." His two tagalongs Crabbe and Goyle were laughing dumbly. Which I didn't know was a thing until now.

Now what to do about this? Is it wise to make enemies this soon? It's barely been two weeks. Oh who am I kidding, I've wanted to do this before even finishing the first book. Calming myself I drew my wand and turned the corridor. This was going to be risky.

" _Flipendo_!" I shouted, and a blue light shot out of my wand, hitting one of the goons. He subsequently hit the wall with his head and slumped unconscious. In that time, the other two turned around and drew their wands.

" _Tarantallegra_!" " _Rictumsempra_!" Green and silver light flew out of their wands, the Tickling Jinx coming nowhere close to hitting the target, but the Dancing Feet one came near my arm. I hastily jumped away and threw my box of knives and spoons into the air.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" I directed them to fly towards the last meathead left. He dodged them, but ended up tripping over the other one, banging his head against the wall too and joining him on the ground.

Using the time I used to cast the spell, Malfoy summoned the courage to launch another, the Jelly-Legs Jinx. " _Locomotor Wibbly_!" Orange light this time came to me, and I barely managed to sidestep it, losing balance and then falling to the ground.

Seeing the advantage, he ran to me and pointed his wand at my face. "Well look what we have here, some Ravenclaw bloke thinking he could play hero." I snorted.

"Why the cartoon villain act, Malfoy? It doesn't suit you. You're less than that." He scowled and pushed his wand forward, so close to my face I could feel it heating up with intent.

"I don't think you realize the situation you're in right now." He smiled, then frowned. "Wait, aren't you that one kid who broke the sorting record? What, none of the houses want you? Pity." I shifted my body and pointed my wand up to him slowly, getting ready for fire. Pretending as if I just had to realign myself to look at him better.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I said, as he pressed his wand to my face.

I smiled, then shouted, " _Expelliarmus_!" Red light engulfed us, and Malfoy backed away from me, wide eyed. His wand flew to the other side of the room. He should have made sure I was without a wand first, the idiot. I stood up.

"Oh how the tables have turned." This, time pointing _my_ wand at _him_. "See Malfoy, I am a _much_ better cartoon villain then you." I could have used the Disarming Charm before, but it's incredibly hard to aim and I haven't had much practice with it. It's also not like Crabbe and Goyle would _need_ a wand to fight. "Don't believe me? I'll prove it."

" _Furnunculus_!" After the light passed, his face immediately began to spring up in angry red boils. Pimples larger than sickles began popping up all the way to his neck and onwards into his chest and arms. Oops, might have put a little too much power in that.

I went over to his wand and threw it out a high up window. I turned back to him, smirking vindictively. "Fetch, boy."

He looked horrified. He'd have to walk through a lot of corridors to get outside and grab his wand, dramatically increasing the chance for someone to spot him and his boils. He ran anyway, sending a hateful glare over his shoulder. This wasn't over.

I sighed, and turned to face the shocked Neville. That was far too close. Fight like that wouldn't have flown in third year, that's for certain.

"Do you need help getting up?" He seemed to realize that he was staring. Getting up by himself he started to get his bearings back and retrieved his wand from out the corner and turned back to look at me.

"Um, My name is Neville. Neville Longbottom. Thank you for helping me, it really wasn't necessary." I scoffed.

"Going by the bruises I'd say it was. Ethan Price, by the way."

"Ah. Can we.. get away from these two? I don't want to be here when they wake up." He pointed at Crabbe and Goyle, still unconscious and folded up on each other.

"Oh right. I forgot. Let's go then." We walked towards the Gryffindor common room, which was likely where Neville was going before he was intercepted.

"So why were they attacking you?" I asked. Was the bullying always this bad? I did vaguely remember Malfoy used to pick on him a lot in the lower years before he shifted fulltime to Harry.

He looked uncomfortable. "I.. can't do any magic." I frowned.

"Bullshit." He flinched at the language. "You're a wizard. You're here at Hogwarts, remember? They don't admit squibs."

"They must have made a mistake, then. If I was a wizard, I would have been able to fend off Malfoy and his goons." He added sorely.

"Nonsense." I considered something. Would this shake up too much of the timeline? "How about I teach you?" His head shot up. "Well, we'll be mostly teaching each other. We could start a little study group for defensive magic and the like. How about it?"

He gave me a contemplative stare. Still staring by the time we reached the painting of the Fat Lady. "I won't be much help, but we could try."

I smiled. "Alright. How about the library at say.. Tuesday at seven? Does that work for you? We can work out a schedule later." He nodded. He then looked at the portrait that led to his common room and grimaced. He then looked imploringly at me. Doesn't speak much, this lad. Yet manages to convey so much still.

I rolled my eyes and turned around, putting my hands to my ears. After a little while, he raised his voice and said that I could put my hands down now. The sounds coming out of the common room were loud and boisterous, very different from mine where everyone is quiet and talking louder than a stage whisper is heavily frowned upon.

"Thank you for helping me. I appreciate it." He stuck out a hand, which I shook.

"No problem." Well, there is a problem. A Malfoy shaped one who will be coming for me now, but I would hope I could deal with him at least until I get better at dueling.

"Bye then." He said awkwardly, and stumbled into the portrait hole.

"Bye."

So yeah. Life at Hogwarts is chaos. And I know for a fact it's going to get a lot worse. But for little moments like these, it might be worth it.

* * *

Yeah I'm going to be changing things pretty early. The consequences won't show up for a while, but minor changes will affect things later on majorly. So look forward to that? IDK. Also, I've been reading Pinky Brown's work a lot recently and it's rekindled my love for Ron which I didn't know had gone. It's made me want to try writing him more as well. Obviously not nearly as well, but I'm going to try. Does this count as foreshadowing? I'll say it does.


	5. Chapter 5

"So I've um... invited a few friends into our study group who I thought would be helpful." My tone  
was filled with caution, which Neville naturally picked up on.

"Alright. Is there something wrong with them?" He asked, as were walking on our way to the  
library.

"Not necessarily. But it'd be great if you could get along with them. They're a bit.. out there if you  
know what I mean." Entering the library I nodded to Madam Pince and headed toward the East  
wing. Neville followed me, a little more nervous now.

"I'll find out, probably."

We finally reached our table, with three other first years already there.  
Tracey, Daphne, and Justin. Also known as my only friends. They were talking affably, Justin  
not yet corrupted by house bias, when Tracey noticed us and waved frantically. Neville,  
practically raised on bias alone, visibly winced when he saw the green coloration of Daphne and  
Tracey's robes.  
Daphne gave him 'the stare,' which only made him more uncomfortable. I sat down next to Tracey.

"Don't worry about Daphne. She does this with everyone." Tracey said, after the stare started to get longer than uncomfortable.

"Just sit down, Neville. Daphne'll get over herself eventually." Daphne's gaze flickered to me for a second, sending me a glare as well before getting back to Neville.

He sat down next to me slowly, face turning away from Daphne.

Tracey spoke up. "So now that everyone's here, can you tell us how we're going to do this?"

I thought about it for a second. "I'd ideally like to meet twice every week to go over defensive magic. Forgive me for saying this, but Quirrell isn't exactly.. Competent." Or most of the DADA teachers we'll have, really. "I guess for now we could just.. Search for some books we think are important and go over them? After that.. Daphne you have some duelling training yes?"

She nodded seriously. "My father would rather ride a cockatrice than put an inkling of trust in the boys here. I didn't really mind. It benefitted me after all."

"Riiiiight. So. Let's get searching then."

We each split off in different directions. I headed for a section very bluntly titled Underused Magic. After a minute or so of searching I heard Tracey call out from the other side of the East Wing.  
"Oooooh. Cosmetic magic! A useful branch of magic for Daphne, I'm certain."

From the other side of the East Wing closer to me I heard another voice respond. "It seems Tracey dearest would rather like this book here on 1700's wizarding manners and courting. She does look fabulous on a middle aged meaty arm."

"Ladies, no thinly veiled insults after dinner please. It upsets the stomach."  
Just as I said that I stumbled upon an interesting book.

 _The Ancient Art of Bonding_ by CoCo

The book had an interesting premise when I gave it a quick overview. It was oddly written to say the least. It felt like a puzzle more than a book, trying to make sense of anything in it. But after a few minutes of grinding i got the general gist of it. To put it simply its contract magic. Although a lot more complex than the simple Unbreakable Vow we use today. It doesn't actually go into any details on how to use it and focuses more on the basic stuff like the spellcrafters behind it and notable uses.

I took the book back to the table with me while still reading it. Everybody else seemed to have one or two interesting reads and on some unspoken decision we collectively scoured them for something useful.

After a solid twenty minutes Justin exclaimed. "Transforming into a hydra would be cool."

Instantly intrigued, I asked. "And how would we do that?"

Justin, who had flipped his book upside down, squinted at the corner of it. "Apparently you could do it by becoming an Animagus. It allows you to transform into an animal! How cool is that?"

Neville retorted in a small voice. "Well if you become an Animagus you'd be stuck to only one form and the form reflects your personality. Like a spirit animal. But physical."

"So likely no one is actually able to transform into a Hydra. Since turning into a magical creature is much rarer than any normal animal, and a hydra is likely even rarer. " Daphne added, sending another measuring gaze to Neville.

"Combine that with the actual amount of people actually willing to put in the years of research and practice it takes to turn into one and the chances become well.. Zero." I finished with a sigh.

Tracey arched an eyebrow at me. "Why do you sound so disappointed? It's not like you'll be able to turn into hydra in the first place. You'd probably get something loopy like a.. a llama or something."

"I just really like the idea of magical creatures. Especially dangerous ones." I responded meekly. _waitasecond_ "Excuse you! I would _not_ be a llama! Llamas are mean and antisocial and spit too much. I'd much rather be an alpaca. Much cuter."

Justin laughed. "No you'd definitely be a llama mate. Fits you to a T."

I clicked my tongue. "Well? Anyone else got something more immediate we can learn?"

We discussed some more on the books we got, and amassed a list of useful spells we could learn that they likely wouldn't teach for the next.. Six years is it? Remus doesn't teach them much offensive magic, and it was never really said if Moony did. Although considering most of the DA couldn't perform a simple Expelliarmus I'm going to guess it's none.

When we were done Daphne asked. "This is all well and good, but how are we going to actually learn any of these spells? We can't exactly practice them inside of a library."

I smiled. "Don't worry I have a place. Just follow me."

We took the books and lists with us upwards to the seventh floor. Just as we got to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy I stopped. "I'm going to need you all to promise me something. The place I am about to show you is to stay secret no matter what. You can't tell friends, relatives, teachers or even Dumbledore. Absolutely no one is to know of this room."

"Why? Will it blow up in our faces and kill us if we do? Cause that would suck." Justin asked a little dramatically.

Tracey giggled. "No this room probably has some super awesome magic or something–and you don't want it to fall into the wrong hands am I right? Oh I am. Good." I rolled my eyes.

"And you trust us with this?" Asked Neville, holding his wand a little tightly.

"If you promise not to tell anyone." They all nodded.

I started pacing around the entrance. "It's called the Room of Requirement and it lets you conjure up a room that–like the name–is filled with something you need. Well except food. Or wands. Or other people. What I'm saying is it still follows the rules of magic so it can't conjure everything, but it's still damn useful so I'm showing it to you." Just as I finished talking a door appeared seemingly out of nowhere. I smiled a little. _As if being in the castle isn't fantastical enough. Just had to go for the full HP experience._

We walked in, and immediately awed at the space. Like every place here at Hogwarts it's a lot bigger than described. There were three distinct duelling arenas, with walls lined with bookshelves on one side and training dummies on the other. The room was also brightly decorated with House colors. Stripes and strokes of all houses intersecting and mixing into a beautiful amalgamation of art that evoked a strange feeling of nostalgia.

"So apparently the library was unnecessary. They've got it all right here." Daphne exclaimed, taking out from one of the book shelves a book called _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_.

"I wouldn't say that. That book on Patronuses could come in handy one day." I said.

"If we wanted to take on dementors yeah. But they're only found in Azkaban aren't they? The charms not gonna have much use if you're sent there because you won't have a wand anyways." Justin remarked.

"It could also act as a messenger. One faster than owls for instance. You never know when we might need that." I retorted.

Daphne clapped her hands loudly, getting the attention focused on her immediately. "Alright. Let's get started."

For the next hour or so we went through common strategies and duelling forms. It was interesting just how much there was to it. It was once we got to spell work when the disasters began. We started with the Disarming Charm, which went about as well as expected. We reverted from using it on each other to the training dummies instead to work on aim and control. We started gradually getting the hang of it, with Daphne leading the pack in terms of accuracy. There was a small problem though.

Neville.

His spells sometimes just didn't bother to work and other times went out extremely awkwardly, with control worse than the quality of early Justin Bieber songs.

Having an inkling into what the problem was I called a downtrodden Neville over during the break we took. "Neville can I see your wand? Just to take a look at it."

He handed it over, slightly confused. "Just be careful with it. My grandmother would kill me if it ended up damaged. It was my father's you see."

I took it over and rolled it a little in my hand. Then I pointed it at a training dummy and shouted: " _Flipendo!_ "  
As expected, almost nothing happened. Just a little bit of wind. "Your father's hmm? What's the wand core?"

"Umm I think its unicorn hair."

"When's the last time the unicorn hair was replaced?"

"It needs replacement?" He asked, slightly baffled.

I sighed. "Yeah. Unicorn hair can fizzle out so it needs replacement every now and then. Although I recommend getting a new wand altogether. Its your father's wand. Not yours. That's likely what's been keeping your performance so low. You need to sync up with a wand to perform good magic with it. The fact you have been able to do anything at all with it says a lot about you."

Neville looked like I had rocked his entire world, which to be fair, I kind of did. "But... But how would I even get a new one? We can't leave the castle until Christmas and even then my gran would never allow it."

"And why not?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He looked even more uncomfortable than usual and stayed silent. Eventually Tracey spoke up. "Well let's get back to it then. I want to get the spell right before bed at least." The rest, who had totally been listening in, got back to practicing, Neville and I included.

After we were thoroughly tired out and some of our spells turned to sparks we decided to call it quits. I however, dialed down the power in my spells a lot for preparation. "Hey Neville."

"Yeah?" He turned to me, wand at his chest.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " White light struck Neville and snapped his limbs together as he fell down. His wand fell to the floor. Daphne and Tracey instantly had their wands trained on me. "Oh wow that worked. I've never tried it on a person before so I'm surprised. Don't worry I won't hurt him." I stepped over to Neville's wand and stamped on it, snapping it in half.

Justin, who was just there confused until now, raised his wand and his voice. "Oi you just broke his wand! Isn't that worse?!" Daphne and Tracey who had their stance relaxed a bit, returned to a wary position, wands lighting up despite their exhaustion.

"No. I just got him a new one." Realization dawned on their faces, Daphne catching up the fastest.

"And how are you going to sell the story?" She asked, putting her wand away.

I smirked. "Malfoy of course. He's already been put in detention once for attacking him. Plus he won't get expelled either since he's a Malfoy."

My spell apparently wasn't that effective, since in not even a minute Neville broke free and looked at his wand somberly.

Feeling a bit of guilt, I handed my wand over to him. The wand itself seemed to sense what I was about to say and I felt some resistance handing it to him.

"Go for it." He looked at me, then the wand in his hand, then back at me.

"Let's just see how it'll go first." He said, handing me my wand.

"OK so who's the best liar here? Good enough to fool McGonagall?"

Tracey, despite clear signs of exhaustion still enthusiastically jumped up and down and raised her hand. "Ooh me! Pick me!"

"What are you, Granger? But no you're a Slytherin and no matter how fair McGonagall tries to be she's still Gryffindor Head of House." Daphne remarked. Tracey looked downtrodden.

I contemplated it. "How about taking it up to Dumbledore? He's all for house unity and more likely to keep quiet about it."

Justin rebuffed this time. "Isn't he like a genius or something? He'd be able to tell you were lying to him wouldn't he?"

I shrugged. "I've done it before. It wasn't that hard." Although indirectly.

Daphne sighed. "Well how about you three go and the rest of us call it a night?"

We said goodbye to Justin and Daphne and went to Dumbledore's office. There was just a slight problem. We didn't know how to get in. The gargoyle who asked for a password didn't exactly have a bell for us to ring.

I looked to Tracey. "Make it desperate."

She smirked and yelled. "Help! Professor! We need help! Malfoy just–"

The gargoyle sprang aside and out came Dumbledore. "Yes?"

Tracey pointed to Neville's wand. "Malfoy broke Neville's wand and ran off when we got there!" I almost facepalmed. Dumbledore has the Elder Wand. He can fix the broken wand if he knows that he could, and since it's Dumbledore, he probably does.

He fixed each of us with a stare. "Come in then."

We all walked into his office, marvelling at all the trinkets and artifacts that seemed to be doing.. Something. Sadly Fawkes wasn't here, going by the empty cage. Dumbledore sat down at his desk. "Lemon drop? I do find they tend to ease the nerves." We all rejected one and sat down in the chairs provided.

"You realize this is a very serious accusation to make?" Dumbledore started, folding his hands together. "Intentional breakage of wands is illegal in Britain. Even if he is a minor, this could have very serious repercussions for the young boy." Does he know? No, he just doesn't have evidence yet.

"It's not news that Malfoy has a penchant for bullying those he dislikes. He just went too far this time." I retorted.

"And you are confident that it was Mr. Malfoy that broke it? You'll recall you said you arrived just as Mr. Malfoy left the scene." He knows doesn't he.

"Why else would he flee? Malfoy's a coward, if he knows he's about to get caught of course he'd flee!" Tracey responded, a tad angrily. Does she have something against him?

"And what does Mr. Longbottom think of all this?" Neville looked chastised.

"I'm not.. Looking to get him into trouble, sir. I just need a new wand." Neville said. Both Tracey and I sank back into our chairs, not realizing we rose in the first place.

He looked at all of us individually, eyes twinkling.

"Well I think a supervised trip to Diagon Alley seems appropriate then. If you would come to my office at say 5 the next day we could arrange for such a trip."

Neville looked hopeful. "And my gran won't know?"

Dumbledore smiled. "And what information should she be privy to exactly?" This time it was us that smiled.

"Thank you Proffesor!" Dumbledore stood up.

"Well if that was all, it is rather late and young children's beds do need filling!" I cringed inside. The other two just blinked at him.

He led us out the door and instructed us to go back to our dorms.

We were quiet moving back, each contemplating the exchange that just happened. Neville seemed to walk with a little spring in his step while Tracey seemed a bit miffed.

"Tracey? What's wrong?" I asked. Her face scrunched up.

"I just thought we could finally get something on Malfoy now–even if it was false I would've liked to see him get taken down a peg. You guys understand right? I know you guys don't like him either. I've heard him talk you know–in the common room I mean. He's plotting something to get at you two. Merlin knows why."

Neville answered for me, his good mood apparently translating to confidence. "Revenge probably."

"What? Why?"

"Ethan fought off him and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Its obvious he's not going to take that lying down, git that he is."

"Ethan did? He _won_ three on one?!" She asked incredulously to which Neville nodded.

" _Technically_ I lost. Malfoy was just too dumb to remove my wand from me when I was down." I interjected.

She snorted. "And why did you even think taking on all three of them at the same time was a good idea?"

"Two reasons. One, they were bullying Neville and there was no one else around. Two, for what I did to him afterwards." I smirked vindictively.

"What did you do?" I told her.

She started laughing maniacally. "Oh that's" laughs "amazing!" laughs "you actually told him to" laughs "FETCH!" laughs "Oh you're definitely my favorite person now!" laughs.

She was laughing so much she barely managed a goodbye when we split off for our dorms.

"You know she didn't actually tell us why she hates Malfoy." I said.

"I can't imagine having classes with him everyday would be any fun." He said.

"Fair enough."

I split off with Neville and went to my own dorm. Knocking on the door the blasted eagle came out.

"What can you hold in your right hand, but not in your left?" Oh I do _not_ have the patience for this. God I hate this thing.

"Your left hand, you idiot."

"...Well reasoned." Did it just hesitate?

Walking into the common room there were plenty of people still out and about, doing something or other. If they weren't studying, I mean. Someone should honestly introduce these deprived wizards to some actual entertainment instead of feeding their stereotypes. Since coming to the Wizarding World I have seen almost no fiction books that _aren't_ children's tales. What wizards actually lack is a freaking hobby. Maybe then they would have something better to do than starting Neo Nazi groups.

I reached the bathroom and washed myself. After I finished I looked myself in the mirror. With short blonde hair and dark brown eyes I looked a lot different than I did _before_. Even now it still gives me pause. I mean, blonde hair! Well. At least I didn't end up a ginger–that would've sucked. Especially here with all the Weasley jokes. Removing my eyes from the mirror I went through the pockets of my robe to make sure I didn't leave anything in when I felt a small piece of parchment in my pocket. Taking it out there was a small message on it.

" _Don't be too hard on him._ "

...Does this mean he knows about the duel? Or fight rather. I'd rather not think about this right now.

I put away my robes and put on night clothes. Creeping into bed I took out the book on Bonding magic and started reading. Maybe this could help me...

* * *

Its been a solid few months so far. With practice and the books we found in the Room of Requirement we've made tons of progress to the point we can actually feasibly duel each other. So far, only Daphne's got a real edge over anybody else. The most surprising thing though is Neville, which could very well be second place in our little group. Since getting a new wand his confidence and by direct corrlation his ability has skyrocketed. Nowadays Neville with his performances in class has become close to the top practically speaking. Even in Potions, while he is still a little scared of Snape his performance has gone from horrid to average at least. Who knew that a few friends and a new wand could do so much for him? Well I did, but I didn't expect the effect to be this immediate.

Which reminds me, Draco's revenge was a.. Thing that happened. It was honestly pretty pathetic. All he really did was start a verbal match in a crowded corridor which he horribly lost. You want to know how it went? Fine. Cue flashback.

* * *

"You mean to tell me there's a plant that can vomit lead? On command?" I asked incredulously.

Neville looked a little smug, explaining the ugly plant he was carrying in his arms. "Oh yeah, you just rub right here..." He touched one of its bigger leaves and lo and behold some kind of tube sprung out and just dislodged lead.

"Isn't that dangerous? I mean lead is toxic isn't it?"

"It'll be fine. Just don't touch it without dragonskin gloves on." I looked at his hands.

"You're not wearing dragonskin gloves."

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm not touching it am I?" I held up my hands in surrender.

Just as we got to the corridor leading to the Transfiguration classroom I heard a familiar drawl just loud enough to be heard over the sea of conversation.

"And just where do you think _you're_ going, Price? The stables are the other way!" What even?

"Excuse you?" I turned around to face the brat.

His face turned smug, knowing he caught my attention. His cronies were next to him a little less smug looking. "You heard me, farm boy. You're no wizard! I know what you really are!"

"Do you not remember last time? If that wasn't magic I fear you'll need glasses Malfoy. Or a brain. And what's this about a farm?" The corridor turned progressively more and more quiet the longer the conversation went on.

"My father is part of the Hogwarts Board of Governors! He knows the background of every single person walking these halls and he just managed to find where _you_ live. A farm! Can you believe it! A muggleborn acting the wizard when it spent all its life shovelling cow dung!"

Well that's not _exactly_ right. We live in an area on the edge of a lot of farmland, but not actually _on_ a farm. Not that this matters to Malfoy. "Wow, Malfoy. That's quite the conjecture. Did you practice saying it in front of the mirror? Didn't know I meant so much to you."

He snarled at this, then spat out. "Like I'd want anything to do with a filthy mudblood like you!" There were lots of gasps and the crowd that was just listening so far started talking again loudly. Some people had angry looks on their faces and seemed a few seconds away from pummeling Malfoy. Neville already had his wand out and aimed at Malfoy. I waved him off. Alright then, redirect.

"That's some high talk from you, inbred." Oh look, more gasps. This time the talking died down again.

Malfoy was furious, and drew his wand out from his robes, snarling at me. I drew mine at the same time just as Neville and Crabbe and Goyle did the same.

"And _what_ is going on here?!" Suddenly an irate McGonagall stepped through the circle cleared when the wands were drawn. All of us immediately retreated and put our wands back. Pointing a wand at this professor out all of them is akin to suicide.

"You five are to come with me to the Headmaster's office! The rest of you–get to your classes! I will be with my students in a moment."

We all followed McGonagall up to Dumbledore's office , heads down and avoiding eye contact.

Once we arrived at his office we saw Dumbledore writing something on his desk. This time Fawkes was there, which added even more colour to an already busy office. Once he saw me and Malfoy he gave me a pointed look. _It wasn't me!_ I tried to convey by means of eye contact and facial expressions. Meaning I pouted like a child.

"And what do we have here?" He said, putting his stupidly elaborate quill down.

"These students were about to go at each other with their wands drawn in _my_ corridor!" Dumbledore looked almost amused.

"Why don't we hear what they have to say first, Minerva?" She scoffed, but Malfoy tried anyway.

"Well, Professor. I was just making my way over to my Defense Against the Dark Arts class with my friends here when _these two_ rudely stood in my way and started shouting all these nasty things at me! I had to protect myself, sir!" I snorted.

"Right. Saying _I_ shovel cow dung for a living when _that_ just came out of your mouth is a next level of hypocrisy Malfoy." McGonagall was about to interrupt when I started again. "What actually happened is that Malfoy thinks being muggleborn is a blight upon your existence and loudly proclaimed so to me in a crowded corridor. Mudblood was it? Very creative." I haven't been part of the Wizarding World long enough to know the significance of that word which adds credibility. The innocence card is therefore easiest to play here. There was a loud gasp from McGonagall and even Dumbledore looked serious.

Malfoy panicked and almost yelled, "That's not true Professor! I did _not_ say that! Get anyone else! They'll say the same!" Foolish move, Malfoy.

"Very well. Minerva, bring a student who was witness to this to my office. I think they would offer a better perspective." McGonagall rushed off. What followed next was an awkward bit of tense silence between us. When she finally came back it was with a confused looking Hermione in tow.

Oh God, would she lie to get me in trouble? She doesn't like me all that much. No I'm safe, at this point she's still a stickler for the rules. Just as promised she gave a (little too) accurate summation of what happened and the eyes all turned back to Malfoy and me.

After a moment of silence the verdict was dropped. "I think a 20 point loss for each member involved for their respective House is in order. Along with that, Malfoy will be serving a detention with Filch next Thursday at midnight. That is all. You may leave now."

We all solemnly left. Neville, Hermione and I made our way to the Transfiguration classroom while the Slytherins went.. Somewhere, sending us hateful glares as they walked away.

We walked along silently until suddenly Hermione broke it. "Neville, what's a mudblood?" He cringed away from her.

"Uuhm. Its an offensive word that shouldn't be said." She looked a little mad at the answer.

"Well obviously but what does it mean?"

After a pause to gather my thoughts I answered for him. "It's a derogatory term for muggleborns that has.. Implications. Blood purity and the debate around it is apparently a big thing here in the Wizarding World. They don't consider muggles pure of blood so you get terms like pureblood or half-blood according to muggle heritage. Therefore there's a connotation that people with muggle ancestry are inferior, though evidence lays to the contrary. So calling someone a mudblood. Well..."

She looked like a great revelation had been unleashed on her and I could almost physically _see_ the connections happening. I rushed for a follow up to stop her getting into dangerous areas.

"There's no actual connection between wizard ancestry and ability or power. I mean, look at Dumbledore! He's a half-blood and the most powerful wizard alive." And so is Voldemort.

"What about muggleborns?" Ummmm.

"The woman who defeated Voldemort was a muggleborn." Neville flinched. Woops forgot that was a thing.

"Don't say the name!"

"And why not?"

"It's.. Not right. The people that died because of him.." I stayed quiet.

"Wasn't it Harry Potter who defeated You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked, after another pause.

"Not really. It was his mother, Lily Potter who sacrificed herself to put some kind of spell on Harry. _That's_ what caused the Killing Curse to reflect." They looked at me in awe for a second.

"And how would you know that exactly" Hermione asked, accusing tone mixed in with the awe.

"Oh look we arrived." I hurriedly rushed into class, aware that they were giving me strange looks. That was a stupid idea wasn't it? That wasn't exactly common knowledge before Dumbledore told the Order.

McGonagall was already teaching, having arrived before us. Neville and I took a seat next to each other in the back. Hermione didn't follow us, choosing to sit alone again.

Neville whispered over to me. "Does she not like us?"

I smiled. "No, just me. See?" I said, just as she turned around to give me a daily mandatory stink eye. I smiled back.

I studiously avoided answering any of Neville's more uncomfortable follow up questions. I can't tell him it was almost _him_ that died can I?

* * *

So yeah, it's been a few months and apparently word got out about our little group, not that it was really a secret. We've been getting a lot closer lately, hanging out outside of dates for duelling practice regularly. Apparently it's quite a big deal since it's been years since a Slytherin and Gryffindor were friends. I asked them if that would turn into any trouble. Turns out Slytherin is a whole lot less united than on the surface. So far the only thing Daphne and Tracey've gotten is avoidance and snarky remarks which they already got before. The pureblood concentration is obviously highest in Slytherin and since their parents are well connected with them they've often met before. Let's just say they didn't make stellar impressions and leave it at that. Gryffindor on the other hand are the real bother in that they seemed to have unilaterally decided we were a menace and keep asking Neville if he's okay or try to waylay him whenever he tries to get to us. So far it hasn't led to confrontation, _yet,_ but it _is_ getting annoying. Thank God no one's found out about the Room of Requirement yet. Mostly because we've been checking for followers every time and go individually to attract less attention.

Everything was going fine until the Halloween feast came around and Quirrell came barging in, stutter suspiciously gone, telling us about a troll in the castle. I ran after Ron and Harry, making sure I wasn't seen or followed.

 _It's time._


End file.
